


Free to be You and Me

by sageclover61



Series: Houses of the Holy [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Actually Gabriel is chaotic good, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode: s02e21 All Hell Breaks Loose, Episode: s03e03 Bad Day at Black Rock, Everyone Needs A Hug, Good Person Gabriel (Supernatural), Good Person Lucifer (Supernatural), Good Person Michael (Supernatural), Good Person Raphael(Supernatural), Jealousy, Look it's all a misunderstanding, M/M, Misunderstandings, Not Canon Compliant, Possessive Raphael, Sam Winchester Deserves to be Happy, Sam Winchester Needs a Hug, So is Lucifer, and a car defiled, passively suicidal Sam Winchester, time loops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 17:42:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20764373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sageclover61/pseuds/sageclover61
Summary: Who was Amara, but the creator of all things? And yet, free will was not a thing all of her children possessed as they ought. Michael was under the thumb of one malevolent God, Lucifer was cast out unnecessarily, Gabriel had fled in fear of his life, and Raphael was more alone than anyone else, forbidden from using the arts taught to him as an excuse for the closeness he craved.And then there was Sam Winchester, Epitome of Choicelessness.





	Free to be You and Me

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted an excuse for some fluff involving Sam, and then it exploded from there when I realized what I really needed was an excuse to write porn of various pairings in the same 'verse and have it makes sense. The 'verse idea is very very loosely inspired by Packrunner's by Coplins and Shenanigans by PetrichorPerfume. 
> 
> With more Raphael.
> 
> This fic could not have been written without the help of Hyrulehearts1123, my goddess of a beta reader.
> 
> Warning: This is tagged as a passively suicidal Sam because saying yes to Lucifer is something that he does with no intention of coming back from it.
> 
> Also, the angels don't take vessel's in this 'verse, but they can all be assumed to look like they were portrayed on the show.  
Michael as Matt Cohen, Lucifer as Mark Pellegrino, Raphael as Demore Barnes, and Gabriel as Richard Speight Jr.

Without their Mother, the archangels were fragments of their former awe inspiring glory. They tried their best. Or at least, most of them did. They were scattered across the universe, not one truly understanding where a single other archangel was located, whether physically or mentally or in what time.  _ Time isn’t linear, after all _ .

Lucifer’s location was, on the surface, obvious. He was trapped in a Cage in limbo, the very bottommost part of Hell. He had absolutely no  _ real  _ contact with anyone or anything, except that this Cage was designed  _ specifically  _ to torture him, and in a way that not one of his siblings would have been able to comprehend unless they were there with him. And they weren’t.  _ That was the point. _

Raphael’s location should have, in theory, been  _ more  _ obvious. And if not his, then perhaps Michael’s.

And where was Gabriel?

This is not how you tell a story. This isn’t the beginning. The beginning would be before Lucifer was ever in the cage. But if everyone  _ knows  _ he’s in the cage, that doesn’t explain how the other three archangels had no way of knowing where he was located in one way or another.

_ When  _ was the cage? How long had Lucifer been inside it? Those aren’t questions that even Lucifer could answer, let alone his brothers. They say that Hell runs faster than Earth time, but what’s better as the basis of torture than ensuring that the torturee never has any idea how long they’ve been there? They’ve been there for a moment or ten thousand years, and either someday someone is going to rescue them,  _ or they’ve been left there to rot and there  _ is  _ no end _ .

The Humans were promised an end of the world in which Lucifer had escaped, but what is even more powerful than his having no idea how long he’d been in there?  _ The idea that someday he would be free and then never gaining freedom. _

Didn’t Lucifer escape the Cage when Sam Winchester killed Lilith?

Did he?

You’re still not telling the story you want to tell. So allow me.

Unlike what Humans believe, God did not create the universe. Not in six or seven days, not in a few hundred thousand years, or whatever people claim. He had no part in creating the Universe. Not the Earth, not the humans, but most especially,  _ not the archangels _ .

God was the “annoying younger brother” as humans would say. He had an older sister. If God was “order” then she was “chaos”. But she wasn’t the “destroyer of all things”, as He would later describe her.  _ Propaganda _ .

But they weren’t really order and chaos. These are human words being used to describe concepts their mortal brains would never truly be able to comprehend. Chaos can be a lot of things. She would have described chaos as motion that changed, and specifically  _ free will _ . Chaos was making your choices and not adhering to any specific rules set in place.

Order was a lot more destructive. Order was obeying every rule to absolute T  _ or perishing _ .

“Let me guess. Gabriel and Lucifer were Chaos incarnate and Michael and Raphael were not?”

“There will come a day when you have heard all the Chaos I have ever gotten into, and it will be aeons from now.”

“If you continue creating Chaos, there will be an infinite number of stories to tell, such that you’ll never reach the end of story telling.”   
  


“But I wanted to hear  _ all  _ the stories!”

“Stop tormenting him, or you’ll never get through  _ this  _ story.”

“Where was I? Ah, yes. The destructiveness of Order’s ideology. Let’s just say that it was  _ very  _ destructive and that we’re all still recovering from that trauma and move on.”

She who was the creator of all things was called "Amara" and she created almost everything. She created Heaven, which was supposed to be a home for her and her brother, and the Earth. She also started creating the things to populate Earth, but before that she created the archangels.

God hated all of these creations but could not outright destroy them, for the most part. Even order has to obey some of its own rules and she had given her children Free Will.

That did not stop him from finding ways to use her children to get rid of her and break them apart. With her gone and the supposedly poisonous key marking the grace of the archangel most like her, it was easy enough to then get rid of Lucifer by making rules he could not follow.

Unsettled and terrified by the changes in Heaven, Gabriel fled, joining the pagans he and Lucifer had once created as their playmates. He bound his grace so tightly that no one could track or find him.

Michael and Raphael both knew, separately, that Lucifer had to be freed, but Heaven was an infinitely large space that did not exist within Earth's linear time.

And humanity had to be protected. They were Her last creations, and God wanted to destroy them.

He could not outright destroy Earth, but Free Will did not like to be so bound by endless rules and yet there were people who insisted they be followed and punished those who failed.

So there were just people being people. Some were good, and some were evil, but they were mostly both. But what happened in Heaven after that?

Even those of us still there aren't sure exactly.

Gabriel left and joined the pagans he and Lucifer had created to be their playmates after Heaven no longer felt warm and welcoming. He hid his grace so well, his siblings couldn't find him.

Neither could God, whose last words Lucifer ever heard were, "Gabriel's next," which left him wondering if his baby brother was even still alive.

That's about when things went from bad to worse.

"You left out the part about the Platypus."

"That isn't relevant!"

"It is to me!"

"Did Gabriel really create the platypus?"

"Yes! He sat on Mother's lap and played with scraps of Chaos.  _ We all did. _ Now be quiet or we'll never get through this!"

Things went from bad to worse because Gabriel bound his grace so tightly no one could ever find him, not his siblings and not God.

And God left heaven too, leading Raphael and Michael to believe that Gabriel was dead. And if not dead, then in danger. And there was not a thing they could do about it, particularly not Michael, who was already so trussed in God's manipulations he was no longer his own person.

So Raphael did the only thing he could do. He listened to the prayers to Lucifer and he protected humanity to the best of his ability. Michael had no idea where or when he was because Raphael, an empath, listened for everyone and did what he could. It wasn't much, but it had to be enough.

And it was. Until the late 1900's when two children were born 4 years apart and the wheels on The End of the World kicked into motion.

Raphael knew the moment they were born and he was not the only one, but it wasn't until later that he understood the significance of the Winchester children.  _ The supposed true vessels of Michael and Lucifer, whose births heralded in the end times. _

"You saved my life at Cold Oak. But I remember you from growing up."

* * *

Jake Talley stabbed Sam in the back. Literally and metaphorically. Severed his spinal cord the second he turned around, seconds after Sam spared his life. It was both unexpected and uncalled for, and it should have been lethal.

Except right before Sam's soul could leave his body and ascend, there was a presence there. It soothed what soul deep aches it could and reached to mend the physical damage.

"You're not going to die on my watch. Not today, Samuel Winchester."

Sam Winchester was not conscious but that did not mean that he did not hear the healer his soul remembered and stretched out towards.

"We're not doing that today either. I promise I will explain everything someday, but right now you need to sleep. You'll wake up when Dean comes back for you."

Sam's soul was not pleased with the healer leaving, but it was not in a position to argue.

Before he left, Raphael smote the demon who killed Mary Winchester. The opening of the demon gate was unnecessary. He had served his purpose, so all further actions could be stopped.

* * *

Bela Talbot's contract should have never existed, but the demons believed she had a greater purpose to serve.

At the age of 14, a demon asked her if she wanted to be free, and she said yes. She had survived so far, but she wanted it to  _ stop _ .

It should not have come at the cost of her soul. She wasn't old enough to consent.

But the devil's in the details and there was no fine print. If the balance had not been so uneven, the contract would never have been sealed. And if a certain angel had known about it, he would have broken it.

That was not her fate because the demons wanted her for a bargaining chip. Dean Winchester was the Righteous Man and would not sell his soul on his own account. But for someone else? Someone who did not deserve their lot in life? Perhaps he could be persuaded.

It would have been easier to persuade Dean to sell his soul if a family member's life was on the line, but they needed an alternative just in case, and they thought she was perfect.

The Winchesters didn't know any of this, though. When the Winchesters first ran into her, she was nothing more than trouble wrapped with mystery and mystique.

Rule number 1: If you don’t know what it is,  _ don’t touch it _ .

Sam lost the rabbit’s foot and the bad luck wanted to kill him. Dean had his back turned to find out from Bobby who wanted it in the first place, and Sam did more than lose a shoe. 

Dean hung up the phone just as he heard Sam’s yelp of surprise, which was followed by a kerplunk. He turned around “What is going on over- Sam?”

Sam was nowhere to be seen, but as he rushed forward, he realized that his baby brother had fallen into the storm drain and that the bad luck  _ really did  _ want to kill his brother. But it wouldn’t today, not on his watch! “I’ll save you!” he shouted as he jumped into the storm drain to save his brother.

Dean managed to get Sam out of the storm drain, sans two shoes. The shoes were a lost cause, eaten by the sewer.

Dean took a soaking wet Sam back to the motel. He did not give his brother a fresh pair of shoes because if anyone could die by tripping over their shoelaces, it would be his brother in this instance. The bad luck was real, and he had to believe that because his brother's life was in danger from it.

He sat his brother down in the overstuffed chair, turned off the heater (because he just knew it would explode) and bade his brother to "Don't fucking move, Sam. Not for anything. I will be right back."

So Dean left and tracked down Bela Talbot. Bobby had walked him through the cleaning ritual for the rabbit's foot so that it probably wouldn't end up killing Sam and he  _ needed  _ it.

Except he didn't end up touching the rabbit's foot himself and Bela didn't try to kill him.

They ended up having an almost honest discussion instead. One that led to Bela offering to help make sure Sam was okay and maybe allow the rabbit's foot to be burned. Maybe. If there was no other option. She didn't want to burn the bridge with the buyer but the bridge with the Winchesters had weight too.

Sam on the other hand, fared a lot worse. The radiator exploded into flames despite being turned off, and then the curtains caught fire when he tried to put out the fire, and then he caught on fire. But he was still soaked from the sewer adventure so it wasn't as bad as it could have been.

And then there were two people attacking and the next thing he knew he was tied to a chair.

And this time, Dean didn't arrive in time to save him and the curse wanted him dead. Maybe it was atrocious bad luck. Maybe it was an act of God.

Sam laid on the floor, in a pool of his own blood, and the two hunters he didn’t know  _ ran _ . It was cold in the room, and it smelled smokey from the fire. His arm hurt from where he had been burned, and the throbbing bullet wounds that pulsed with every breath.

He was terrified. He wanted Dean, he wanted Dean  _ now  _ and it became a mantra as he sobbed.

After the longest hour of his life, Sam's heart stopped beating, the curse ended, and Sam's luck changed.

There were angels watching over the Winchesters. Raphael was not the only one to mend what soul deep aches he could.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Ephraim whispered. He landed next to Sam and studied the room, then blinked. He was the leader of the Rit Zien, Raphael's right hand when it came to offering healing aid, and the only one trusted to keep an eye on Sam Winchester.

After determining that Sam was alone in the room and that the danger was far enough gone that he would have to seek it out later, he picked the vessel up from the floor, and carried him gently to the bed.

Ephraim did not snap to signal that he was about to use his grace. He was not seeking attention and loud noises were never conducive to healing. He just used it. He restarted Sam’s heart and patched the bullet wounds in a way that would not look suspicious to the brother whose suspicions would not be unavoidable. The lack of blood on the bed would be easily explainable as doing “CPR” on the floor and patching the wounds there as well.

And then he reached to get a better glimpse at the damage to the soul. He and Raphael both had done what they could to heal it on many different occasions, and he could see the most recent patches Raphael had put in place only a few weeks before.

But if anything, the Healer was concerned that their patches were becoming less effective all together. Yet if that was the case, what could they do to reverse it? The soul was at risk for shattering and they didn't want that.  _ He didn't want that, for Raphael's sake. _

"Hug," Sam's soul demanded.

Souls couldn't really talk the same way human vessels could communicate, but they were less inhibited. He knew there was no way Sam Winchester would ever ask for the affection he desired, but his soul was not so closed off. It knew what it wanted and didn't know how not to ask.

It reminded Ephraim of fledglings, in a way. Humans were quite capable of lying about what they really needed or wanted, tapping down their true desires so far that it was as though they no longer existed.

But neither souls nor fledglings had that ability. They wanted exactly what they wanted, and in most cases there would be emotional outbursts until those needs were met.

Ephraim had time, so he reached out his grace to cocoon the small soul, healing it while providing the comfort it was seeking. He had provided comfort and healing to many a fledgling in the same way, once, long ago, before healing their siblings of all but the most superficial scrapes had all but been forbidden.

It almost looked as if one of the old patches of grace faded into the soul, repairing the single tear in the way they had desired, but it was impossible to know for sure. Sam's soul held many such patches. Too many to count them all.

Ephraim was just putting Sam's soul back when the door burst open.  _ Right on time,  _ he thought.

Dean blinked as he came into the room and got a good luck at the destruction of the room. He was holding a gun. "What the fuck happened here?!" He got a better look at the man that seemed to be looming over Sam. "Get the fuck away from my brother."

Ephraim had no intention of either revealing all the cards or burning any bridges. Raphael wasn't ready to reveal all the truths and Ephraim wasn't going to betray the archangel by doing it for him. So he put his hands in a universal sign of "I mean no harm," as though Dean's mortal weapon could actually harm him, and took a few steps away from Sam. He didn't want to.

"Who the fuck are you?" Dean Winchester asked. "What the fuck did you do to my brother? And what the fuck even happened here?"

"I heard gunshots so I came to investigate," Ephraim said. "Anyway, your brother's heart stopped so I performed basic CPR and patched up the bullet wounds. He should be coming to any second now."

Right on time, Sam moaned.

"If Sam's heart stopped, does that mean the bad luck curse let go of him?" Dean asked.

"I would assume so." Ephraim knew that the curse was no longer on Sam because he hadn't felt it when he'd healed him. But he hadn't intentionally waited, either.

Had the bad luck curse intentionally kept him away until Sam's heart stopped? Ephraim honestly had no way of knowing, but he didn't like the implications. He also didn’t like not knowing who had done this.

"Is your brother alright?" a woman's voice asked as she came in.

"He'll be fine," Dean said, as Sam sat up.

"Who are you?"

"This is Bela Talbot. She's the one that wanted the Rabbit's Foot in the first place," Dean said.

"If the curse is broken on your brother, then my client can have his artifact, can't he? I would really rather not cross him."

"Can we break the curse without destroying the rabbit's foot?" Sam asked. "Although, why should we help you? You're a thief."

Ephraim studied the woman called Bela Talbot, and he could see the demon's mark marring her soul. Having no propriety when it came to the safety of his charges, he had no qualms about reading Bela's mind. What he found was not at all what he had expected.

Her’s was a broken soul as well. But there was nothing he could do about it. He would just tell Raphael that the demons had broken the rules.

“Please?”

Ephraim didn’t agree with her intentions, or her means, and he was pretty sure that if they’d actually met, he wouldn’t like her. But there was also something telling him that this had to go down, so he spoke up. “You’re trying to break the curse on a Rabbit’s Foot without using the purification ritual that would require burning it? I might have a recommendation.”

They ended up performing Ephraim’s recommendation. (He  _ knew  _ they would). Dean didn’t trust him, but they didn’t have anything else to try. It worked (of course) but none of them were dumb enough to touch it. (The buyer would get what was coming to him, Ephraim would make sure of it.)

Sam was exhausted by the end, and Ephraim wanted nothing more than to lend further aid, but Dean was barely letting him look at Sam, let alone stand closer than 2 or more yards.

“Are you really okay, Sam?” Dean asked, steadying Sam as his brother stumbled.

"Dean... They said.... They said they're on a mission from God to... To kill me."

If Ephraim did not have perfect control over his vessel, it would have given away shock. He was well aware that humans often fought over what they believed their gods and deities to desire. Crusaders, martyrs. They thought their belief in a one true God  _ mattered _ . But they were so wrong. So misguided. So  _ manipulated _ .

There may have been “one true God” currently on Earth, but humans weren’t his favorite creation, and he was no benevolent God of Love. He wasn’t the creator of anything at all, and humans were his least favorite of all of Her creations. He wanted to destroy them, but Order had to follow his own rules.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Ephraim said, firmly holding back his vessel’s desire to gag, “I believe it’s time for me to leave.”

“Who are you, anyway?” Dean asked.

“My name is Ephraim. And I believe it’s time to go. Goodbye, Sam.” He left, but paused outside the door.

“It’s okay, Sam. They were wrong.”

“They had questions about the demon gate, and the demon blood. They knew, Dean. They  _ knew _ .”

There was the sound of quiet sobbing, and then the rustle of fabric as Dean pulled Sam into a hug and pulled him onto the ground. “It’s okay, little brother. I’m right here and it’s going to be okay.”

Ephraim knew that Dean wasn't going to let go of his brother for a good while, and he was glad that someone would give Sam Winchester the physical affection he wanted but wouldn't ask for. He deserved it. Without another thought, he returned to Raphael’s side.

Raphael was alone, as was usual, and Ephraim couldn’t help himself but run forward to embrace the archangel. There was no longer any comfort to be found from any of his other siblings, and he tried very hard to keep himself together when it came to the archangel. Raphael was an empath, and all the Rit Zien were empaths, and Ephraim did not want to be needlessly a bother. (He remembered how badly it had hurt Raphael to be told he could not seek to heal, comfort, his siblings and did not want to contribute to the possible punishment. But that had only stopped him most of the time.)

"What happened?" Raphael asked. Of course something had happened. Ephraim would not be hugging him otherwise.  _ That did not stop him from returning the hug.  _ When had he last hugged the leader of the Rit Zien? When had he last offered comfort to anyone other than Samuel Winchester?

"Samuel Winchester touched a cursed Rabbit's Foot and in the end his heart stopped. I healed him enough to keep from causing his brother undue suspicion and aided them in removing the curse without destroying the appearance of the artifact. My understanding is that it belonged to their father and a woman named Bela Talbot stole it. Her soul bears the mark of a Demon Deal, but, Raphael, she was a child when it was made. She was asked if she wanted to be free of her suffering and she said yes." Ephraim knew these things from reading her mind. "Sam was almost killed by other humans. He said they believed themselves to be doing the work of God, and implied that they were holding him responsible for the demon blood and the demon gate opening. It concerned me."

"The demon gate did not open," Raphael said. "I prevented it. But the increased demonic activity is to be expected. The apocalypse is coming whether we like it or not, and the first step is the Righteous Man, Dean Winchester, shedding blood in Hell. They were likely banking on Sam dying at Cold Oak but he didn't, so there's no deal on Dean's soul. If it would not bring so much attention, I would free her from her Deal. It was never supposed to he possible for demons to make deals with children. When Mom comes home, she  _ has  _ to fix this."

Ephraim hugged Raphael tighter. "Do you really think she will come back?"

"She has to. Or we're all going to die."

* * *

"Do you really think that? Or do you just miss her?"

"I don't know what to believe. It's just the last piece of hope I still have left and I can't lose it."

* * *

Bela made her deal with her client with a curse free rabbit's foot and they parted ways. They thought that would be the last of her but they were mistaken. With no burnt bridges, their paths were destined to cross again in better circumstances than might have otherwise occurred.

Again and again, until they found out her history and about the demon deal that had saved her life. There had been no fine print, no awareness of what it would mean. She has been 14 years old and her only desire had been for her parents to stop hurting her. And following a car crash that had ended both their lives, she'd gotten her wish.

At the cost of her soul apparently, and a short life. She could have until the tenth anniversary of her parents' deaths. There had been no contract or fine print or a kiss to seal the deal.

Just the date of her own demise. And now it was coming close and she didn't want to die.

In the end, Dean agreed to take her deal. She had been a small child with no clue or warning as to what she was about to get into and it hadn’t been fair. Not at all. It was a trap, getting Dean to agree to take the deal. But not Bela’s trap.

They did not know that there was a reason the demons needed Dean’s soul marked, or that if he had made his own deal they would have only given him a single year of life because they were desperate.

Sam was not happy, but he did not blame Dean for taking on Bela’s deal. It was almost exactly like how he had always imagined his brother going out. Dying in the defense of someone innocent. The life Bela had chosen for herself wasn’t entirely innocent, but there was no judgement.

When Lilith herself came for Dean’s life, they tried to fight back. They had been careful of their plans to break the deal because they did not want it to revert to Bela’s soul, but that did not mean that they surrendered. 

Lilith came early. She would always come too early. And in the moment before she ripped Dean’s soul from his body, something unexpected happened.

There was a flash of bright light, and someone who resembled the young John Winchester that Sam had never met, shouted, “Nobody touches what belongs to me!” Just like that, Lilith burst into flame, smote.

The figure turned slowly, until he was facing both Sam and Dean, smiling softly. “I’ve waited for so long to meet you,” he spoke quietly, reaching out to place a hand on each of the boy’s shoulders, seeming to ignore their discomfort. “Come, I’ll take you to-”

The figure froze, all emotion and warmth fading away from his face, leaving nothing but terror in its place.

“No, please, give me just a moment to-”

The figure was begging, but was cut off as another flash of light overtook the vision of both Sam and Dean, leaving them completely alone as it faded.

A moment passed in silence, before Dean turned to face Sam, a look of confusion more than clear on his face. “Dude, what the fuck just happened?”

There was another flash of light, as equally blinding as the other ones. This time, someone else was standing a few feet before them. This individual did not look like the young John Winchester, but rather someone entirely different.

“My brother, just now, what did he do?” The man appeared distraught, and looked nothing at all like the young John Winchester. In fact, he didn’t look related to the first individual in the slightest.

“You tell us!” Dean was shouting, waving his hands around as he tried to understand any of what had just happened. “One second, I’m about to go to  _ Hell _ , the next, this dude is staring at us like he knows us, looking like our dad for some reason, and saying he wants to take us somewhere!”

Sam was shaking. It could have been explained away as the fading away of the adrenaline from almost losing Dean, but it was actually for a different reason altogether.

  
He  _ wanted _ , more than anything that he could think of in the moment, to  _ hug  _ the being standing there. He wanted it with his  _ entire  _ being. But he couldn’t understand  _ why _ . He didn’t know the figure standing there, did he? Had never seen them before.

* * *

“I would have hugged you, if I’d known that’s what you’d wanted all along.”

“We wouldn’t have been ready for that.  _ Dean _ wouldn’t have been ready for that.”

“You can hug him all you want, just finish the damn story!”

* * *

“But  _ where  _ did Michael want to take you?” The being was clearly exasperated, and still distraught. “He hasn’t left Heaven in  _ millenia _ .”

Sam gasped. “That was Michael? The Archangel Michael?! The Viceroy of Heaven was here?!”

If anything, this seemed to cause the new arrival to sadden. “Yes, that was Michael. He’s… not himself. He hasn’t been himself in a long time. Anyway, I am Raphael.”

Sam’s eyes widened, if that was even possible. “The archangel of healing?”

The being nodded.

“Pfft! Angels ain’t real!”

Sam vibrated with tension, caught somewhere between his desires and the belief that he could be too tainted for this encounter with the divine.

* * *

"Is this part of the story  _ strictly _ necessary? So there was some blatant mistrust, but obviously it was gotten over or we wouldn't be here."

"I think this is important. Besides, I was quite enjoying the character development."

* * *

"With Lilith dead, what does that mean about the deal? I… don't have to go to Hell now, right? That's not why you're here?"

Sam swallowed audibly. "Some lore suggests that one of Michael's jobs is to guide souls and… weigh them. I  _ think  _ it's a merging of Pagan beliefs to the church, in this case the idea of Anubis weighing the heart against the feather of truth, but… that wasn't why Michael was here, right?"

"There's no weighing of souls in the sense you're referring to, and reapers carry the souls to the afterlife themselves, not Michael. And yes, Michael killing Lilith did free the demonic claim on your soul, Dean. You'll live a long life."

Sam bit his lip. "The deal won't revert back to Bela either?"

"The mark on her soul was removed when Dean accepted it in her stead. She'll be fine. If you'll excuse me, I need to go find out what repercussions there are going to be from Michael killing the oldest demon  _ now. _ But if either of you need anything, you can call my name."

And with that, the archangel of healing was gone.

Sam's eyes watered, but he wasn't sure why. It felt like something was missing, or hadn't happened that was supposed to. And his chest hurt.

* * *

They didn't call Raphael, but that didn't stop the archangel from dropping by pretty frequently. He healed their incredibly minor injuries, offered tidbits of advice on hunts, and on a few specific occasions, gave them incredibly detailed accounts for hunts he wanted them to look into.

About a week later, Raphael paced in their motel.

"I need to explain why Michael's actions distressed me," Raphael said. "It's going to be difficult to believe, but it's important. Others might see you as nothing more than pawns in a game of chess, but you're both so much more than that, and it's important to me that you understand the truth."

Both Winchesters waited for Raphael to continue.

"The creator of the world, that wasn't God. God locked the true creator of everything away, and made sure to do what he could to punish and destroy Her children for existing. Lucifer wasn't cast out for disobeying or trying to harm them. He was cast out for being most like her." Raphael paced the length of the room again. "The angels want the cage he's held in to open. Most believe Michael and Lucifer are going to battle to the death, but they're very much in love. If Michael can remember that, and isn't too far gone in the entanglements of His manipulation and corruption."

"What does that have to do with us?" Dean asked, with a quick glance at his brother who looked more than skeptical.

"Some of them believe that you're the ones destined to be the "true vessels" of Michael and Lucifer respectively. One or the other of you consenting might free Mom, but that's not a guarantee, and it's not really safe, and it's not what She would want."

* * *

And then they ended up at The Platypus Diner.

* * *

"Ooh! This is where I come in!"

" _ We know." _

* * *

There was… something off about it. On that, Sam and Dean could agree from the start.

Nothing about it seemed  _ real _ , at least not to Sam.

It started with “Heat of the Moment” playing on the radio, and waking Sam out of dead sleep.

And then there was the toothpaste. Bubblegum that Sam couldn’t remember being a choice they ever made for toothpaste. They had both always,  _ always  _ used mint toothpaste.

And then there was the bra in his backpack.  _ Where the hell had that even come from? _ Was it…. Bela’s? Sam couldn’t help but wonder idly.

That was even before how  _ strangely  _ all the people at the diner were acting.

It was like they were merely caricatures. They were unrealistically one dimensional, as though their entire personality was defined by one thing. The sassy waitress warned the old man to be careful driving and he said he would.

Like every old man  _ ever. _ And maybe that was stereotyping, but it could also be just normal small town shenanigans.

Up until the point at which they couldn’t leave. That was the weird part.

About the 47th time they tried to leave, they realized that maybe they should ask Raphael for some help because they had interrogated  _ literally _ everyone and still had no idea what the fuck was going on, and Dean was ready to murder a bitch.

Dean was always ready to murder a son of a bitch. Especially when they kept him trapped in some friggin’ lame ass diner.

* * *

Raphael had no idea where the Winchesters’ were. He didn’t keep track of their whereabouts  _ all  _ the time, but it usually took nothing more than the thought of “where are they” to have an answer.

If he wasn’t going to join them, then a casual “they’re in this five mile radius” was good enough. But they did end up in danger frequently enough that sometimes he did want a more specific answer.

It wasn’t coming. He was not picking up on the more specific location.

He couldn’t have flown to them. He couldn’t help them if they needed him.

Raphael was scouring the five mile radius for them, but there was a whole lot of  _ absolute  _ nothing.

He heard his name called, a whisper of prayer from one Sam Winchester, coming from somewhere close by.

So he flew to the source of it, and found himself looking at a very large corn field.

If the Winchesters were here, but he couldn’t really see them, then maybe they were in a pocket ‘verse? Except what kind of being could create a pocket universe that could hide something from him even to this miniscule point?

If it had to be there, then maybe he could just… enter?

So he flew into it and saw what appeared to be an old diner. And there, on the roof, and completely oblivious to his presence yet… Was Gabriel. Gabriel who had left Heaven about the time Lucifer was cast into the cage and hadn’t been heard from since.

And so he tackled Gabriel.

* * *

“They desecrated Baby!”

“Deano, if anything, we made your car about twice as holy as it would’ve been.”

* * *

Dean and Sam woke up in a hotel room they did not remember checking into.

About 5 minutes later, Raphael and someone they had never seen before appeared in the room. They both had very messy bedhead and rumpled clothing and possibly a few hickies.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “You destroyed my car! Where the Hell are we?! And why the Hell were you off having sex instead of explaining to us what is going on! Also, who the fuck are you?!”

“They call me Gabriel," he said. "And well you see, Deano, when two adults like each other very much-”

Raphael rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s enough of that.” He turned to face the boys, a look of minor irritation on his face. “Dean, your car is fine. We moved to somewhere different before anything happened, but if you really want to see for yourself, your car is in the parking lot outside.”

  
Sam shifted uncomfortably. "Where are  _ we _ ?" 

* * *

"Were you not in the human city known as Detroit?"

"We were. We still are," Samuel Winchester sighed. "Is that it then? The story of our entire lives until now? And yet it doesn't explain why you're here now, Michael."

"Raphael freed me from God's manipulation."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "How the the fuck can we trust that?"

"I bet Raph jumped his bones, he's really good at convincing people to change their minds," Gabriel said, licking his lips. 

"There were no bones," Michael said. "Raphael merely reminded me of what I've been missing."

"I thought Lucifer was your sexual partner?" Sam asked.

"Like… exclusively?" Michael tilted his head in confusion. "We're all flock, Sam. We all take care of each other, whether it's needs of the flesh, or emotional support, or something else."

"So why the Hell did you cast Lucifer out?" Dean snarled. "Why did Gabriel spend millennia all alone? If you're such a flock, why didn't you act like it?"

Michael could not answer Dean's rhetorical question. There was no good answer, and he could have spent, had spent, millennia pondering it.

"Extraneous circumstances," Raphael said. "And it changes nothing." He was sitting between Michael and Gabriel and between one instant and the next, he had placed a gentle, soft, kiss on the forehead of each.

Sam stood. "I need to think," he said, and left the room.

He didn't deserve happiness, but that didn't mean he didn't want it more than anything else. But that wasn't his choice. Fate had apparently made other choices for him.

But maybe he could bring happiness for the Archangels and his brother. The archangels cared for Dean, at least, he wanted to think so. But they were missing one of their number, and that was unfair.

They were arguing about whether they could take on the God who had ruined their lives, and whether Lucifer would be the advantage they needed, and if their Mother was strong enough to do it.

And Sam… he knew that wasn't going to be enough, but if there was one thing he had learned, it was that souls had power. Maybe not power they could all use, but it was still different, and possibly stronger, than the angels or archangels if used correctly.

_ So what if he just said yes? _

Consent was an uncoerced, clearly and mutually understandable yes. And there was no question he was going to do this.

"Lucifer?" he whisperer. The fallen archangel wasn't free of the cage, but Sam understood that Lilith's untimely death meant that the cage was not so well locked as it had been. Perhaps not all of Lucifer has broken free yet, but his presence would be attracted to his three siblings hiding in the same small place. They were out of time to wait any longer. He  _ had  _ to do this.

_ I am here, Sam. _

The voice was quiet, could almost be mistaken as Sam's imagination if not for the part where his soul had learned to recognize that which took care of it.

"I know you can't free yourself yet, but I consent to act as your vessel. I lend you my strength, please free yourself."

_ This is a very bad idea. It could kill you. _

Sam laughed dryly. "A lot of things could kill me. A lot of things have. But a whole lot of things are worth more than my continued existence, including your freedom and the world. Do you need more than just my statement of consent?" He didn't wait for an answer.  _ "Yes, Lucifer. Possess me. Use me. Your flock wants you to return home, and you all deserve every happiness. _ "

There was no resisting Sam Winchester. Not when his consent was so insistent. There weren't very many things he wanted more than he wanted to rejoin his flock, but learning more about this perfect human and showing him that he deserved every happiness too was already rapidly overtaking it.

Sam kneeled before the force of Lucifer encompassing him could cause him to collapse, and he surrendered to the presence.

It was nothing like being possessed by Meg. It was also slower, took longer.

_ I am trying not to hurt you. And freeing myself isn't exactly instant- _

There was no time to dawdle, and Sam  _ reached _ . He could feel the part of himself that was brushing against Lucifer's grace, could feel the infinite power flowing in it. Reaching further, he traced the essence that was Lucifer as far as he could until he found the oozing and oily mass of space that was trying to keep him from leaving.

He stared at it with eyes that were not his own until he could distinguish its weaknesses, and then he  _ struck out _ .

The action disintegrated the Cage, rubber banding him and the Whole of Lucifer back into his body.

It was a tight fit, and yet as the embodiment of light and grace encompassed his bruised and battered soul, nothing had ever felt more  _ right _ . _ _

There was shouting from somewhere, probably Dean or the archangels figuring out exactly what he'd done, but he couldn't bring himself to care. This had to be his  _ purpose. _

_ Sam, Love, you didn't need to do that. I could have. _ He was louder now, but not too loud. It was like someone whispering in your ear, but each word more carefully enunciated.  _ I don't want to hurt you, you don't deserve that. _

Sam had trouble believing that as truth. Images came unbidden to his mind, Raphael and Gabriel first appearing together in their motel, and then Raphael's claiming kiss of both Gabriel and Michael. Raphael had also said that if it was hugs were what he wanted, he should simply ask, and yet it still felt like the building of a wall.

And possibly a reminder that he was unlovable.

_ None of that now, you and Dean are flock And if you will allow it, I would show you. _

Sam  _ wanted _ , but they were out of time.  _ Has the time come to free Her? _ he asked.  _ They're afraid He's coming. _

_ She's already on her way. We all swore we wouldn't take her favorite species as vessels. _

Sam stammered. Something like an apology.  _ She wouldn't help them because he'd forced Lucifer's hand into breaking the rules, and he'd doomed the world. Again.  _

Lucifer snickered.  _ No, Love. That's not how flock works. She won't doom the world because of this. Lecture, certainly, but She won't lock me away. I'm Her favorite. _

"Lucifer! Leave that poor human's soul alone! Honestly! If you're going to behave like this, maybe I'll just have to pick a new favorite." And then, She  _ hugged them _ .

It was warmth, and light, and Sam wanted to sob with the intensity of  _ Love  _ he didn't  _ deserve  _ and wasn't intended for  _ him _ .

_"I'm sorry,"_ _he sobbed. "It's my fault, Ma'am." How was one supposed to address the Creator of the Universe? "I talked him into it. I thought it was necessary and I didn't know there was a rule against it."_

She hugged them both again. "I'm not mad, Sam. And while you might have encouraged him, Lucifer made his own choice. But it doesn't mean anything, really. And even if it did, I don't abandon my children."

The door finally opened.

"Mom!"

Raphael and Michael and Gabriel swarmed her and Dean slipped over to Sam.

"Sam? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." It was relative.

Wait. Wasn't Lucifer supposed to be in control? Why had he spoke? Why could he speak?" Why was he cognizant of what was going on?

_ I have no desire or intention to strip you of your facilities, Love. And what use do I have for controlling your body? None. But if it would be easier, do you want to nap until I can remove myself?" _

No, he didn't want that either. Not knowing would be so much worse. And yet, he also trusted Lucifer not to do anything with his body that he wouldn't approve of.  _ Not like Meg. _

"Why don't I just step in for a moment," Amara said. "Sam, please let go of Lucifer so we can get him out of there."

It took Sam a minute to understand what She was asking of him, and once he did, he almost  _ didn't want to _ .

Lucifer was a warm comfort next to him, and he felt so loved, and he didn't want to give it up.

But he didn't get to do that. And so he let go, because he didn't get to make an attempt at exerting his will over anyone else.

_ Love, it's okay. It's okay for you not to want to let go when this is the best you've ever felt. But I promise that these feelings won't be a one time thing. And there are safer ways to do it. _

So he let go, or thought he was letting go, and then Lucifer was pulling away from him.

It was  _ agony _ . Never in his entire life had he felt any pain as intense as what it felt like when Lucifer pulled away towards Amara. It felt like he was being torn apart inside.

There was screaming. He wasn’t aware that he was the one screaming, only that it sounded like something was dying.

He  _ wanted  _ to die. Dying would be better than this. Being possessed by Lucifer should have been  _ it _ . There shouldn’t have been anything after, but there had been so much love. More than than he could comprehend.

And now it was freezing itself away.

The tugging stopped. His insides still pulsed like freezer burn and he was still screaming, but Lucifer was still firmly next to him, love and light and warmth battling the chill.

What the Hell had he done.

_ Sleep, Sam.  _ This time, it was Amara whispering through his entire being.  _ I apologize for being so careless with your battered soul. _ And then there was nothing.

* * *

There was a house in the middle of nowhere. It was a large cozy house with just the right number of rooms for a family of six, and it stood empty.

Amara brought her eldest children’s flock to this house and laid the youngest human on a bed in a first floor bedroom. Lucifer was still inside the human’s vessel, as it would take more care to separate the grace and the soul than she had realized.

She should not have tried to separate them so forcefully, noticed that there was more going on than just the obvious. In so doing, Sam’s soul had tried to tear in two.

It was already such a battered soul, it should not have had to endure more.

She carefully eased Lucifer out of Sam’s vessel, carefully prodding the small soul as it tried desperately to hang on, to even come with Lucifer.

Souls didn’t know how to deny themselves the things they wanted more than anything, not when it was being given freely.

“Have you learned your lesson?” She asked when Lucifer was standing beside her.

“What lesson?” His grace was covered in the equivalent of hickies and love bruises and he sounded high.

She rolled her eyes, but didn’t bother explaining. “Michael’s upstairs. You should go… take care of that.”

Lucifer cast a disappointed look back at the sleeping human. “But Sam-”

“Sam will sleep for awhile. You can come back later. I’ll sit with him until you get back if you prefer.”

With a nod, Lucifer slipped out of the room.

Amara was just settling comfortably into a chair at Sam’s bedside when Dean Winchester stepped in.

“Will my brother be okay?” he asked quietly, staring at the still form of the person he cared most about.

“He’ll be fine, he just needs to sleep this off.”

Dean bit his lip, hesitant on whether or not he wanted to ask his other question. In the end, he decided he had to. “What… happened to him? I think he said yes or whatever to Lucifer, but, what happened after that?”

Amara glanced at the hunter who had slipped even closer to his brother’s bedside. “The archangels aren’t really supposed to take vessels, and doing so takes a lot of preparation to make sure the soul can deal with the extra power there. And your brother just sort of bypassed everything. So now he’s sleeping it off.”

That sounded like Sam. Always jumping into things regardless of what the consequences might be. Letting an  _ archangel  _ possess him was just the icing on the cake.

The door opened and Gabriel leaned into the doorframe looking every bit like the God of mischief, fire, and sexual deviancy he masqueraded as. “Hey, Deano,” he said with a sultry air. “Wanna come have some fun?” He waggled his eyebrows.

“But Sam-”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Sam’s going to be sleeping for awhile and it’s not healthy to stay cooped up in here  _ the whole time _ . I’m sure there’s a whole lot more interesting things we could be doing in the meantime, if you get what I mean?”

Dean tried to think of a reason to resist,  _ any  _ reason to resist, except Amara cut in with a, “It’s okay, Dean. Sam’ll be just fine. Go have some fun.”  _ Somewhere that is not in this room. _

“Well, if you insist. Gabriel, care to show me the way?” Dean asked, smiling as he approached the archangel and then followed him out of the room.


End file.
